


Words and Actions

by Medeafic



Series: Supernova [15]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M, Spanking, Vague mention of childhood abuse or trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-22
Updated: 2011-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medeafic/pseuds/Medeafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris and Zach talk.  A lot.  Chris goes to see Angels in America.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words and Actions

Chris shifts slightly to the side in the bed so he has a better view. He watches Zach’s face closely as Zach begins to talk. He doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but Chris is desperate for information. Zach doesn’t seem to notice, though. He’s too caught up in choosing his words. He wraps his arms around his shoulders, instinctively protective, but when he speaks, it’s open. Honest.

“I’ve always been afraid of losing you, because of…how I am. You know what I mean.”

“If you’re doing it you should be able to say it.” It’s the same thing Zach used to say to him sometimes, when he was teasing. Chris speaks gently but he’s surprised. Usually Zach is not so self-conscious, not about this. He can ask, demand, instruct without even a mild blush.

“Because I like to hurt the person I love. Because I like to hurt _you_. To show you I love you.”

“When we first got together, you were completely comfortable describing yourself as a sadist. What’s changed?”

“The stakes are much higher now.”

They look at each other.

“Keep going,” Chris says.

“Most of the time I knew it was okay, I knew you liked what I did. But when I saw you up there on stage like that, as Padraic…” He stares at the comforter, smoothing it over his thigh as though reassuring himself. “I made some connections in my mind that were unfair and were just my paranoia and stupidity and-"

“Oh, no. You’re not getting away with that. Full explanation.”

Zach squirms. “Way back when we first read _Inishmore_ together, you asked me how I’d play it. You asked whether I would just be _myself_. Whether I would just be scary, because I like being scary.”

“Yes,” Chris says after a moment. “I remember that. And you asked me if I was sure I could pull off a role like that.” _Just a movie star, after all._

“Yeah. We were kidding around, or I guess I thought we were at the time, but then later I wondered if you really _did_ see me like Padraic. Scary, like that. And then when you wanted to cut me, you said you wanted to learn how _I_ did it, so you could be more convincing in the role. You wanted to know how it felt for me and what I thought when I was doing it.”

It’s true. That’s what he said to Zach to convince him to do it. “It wasn’t really about that,” Chris admits. “I mean – it was, but…” He clears his throat. “Mostly I just wanted to try it for _me_ , not for the role. But keep going. I’ll stop interrupting.”

“When you were doing your research for the role, you were asking me all those questions, about control and fear and what I liked about it and…just so many questions. You said I was your primary resource, so I thought – I thought –”

“You thought, reasonably enough, that I was basing my performance on you.” Chris feels sick.

“Yes.”

“I wish I’d told you, Zach. By the end, after all my research, I realized then – you’re nothing like Padraic.”

Zach swallows. “Well. Okay.” He chews his nail for a second, and then continues. “When I saw you, you were so good. _Too_ good. I thought that maybe you were enjoying it so much, enjoying the part because you wanted to be _like_ me. It was like life and drama were crashing together and I thought…” He takes a deep breath. “I thought that once you’d finished with the play, maybe you’d start to hate me.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I know. It doesn’t make sense, but I thought you wouldn’t need me anymore. I thought that you would prefer being _like_ me instead of letting me do things. And I knew I wouldn’t be enough for you anymore. Because I can’t deal with being hurt, not long term. I wished I could, for you, but I can’t.”

“That is complete horseshit. I don’t want that, not like you do. You _know_ what I’m like. You know me. You told me yourself I’m not like that, I’m not like you.”

“I know. But sometimes I get frightened.” And he does look frightened, his eyes huge and dark and his mouth tense. “I’ve never had anyone – I mean, a boyfriend – really accept me for who I am before. I’ve never been what they needed. They’ve always wanted things from me that I couldn’t give, and when I couldn’t give them what they wanted, they left. There’s a pattern there, a pretty damn clear pattern; we’re talking chess board, black and white. After the whole trial thing, I pushed so far…I was sure that eventually it would be the same with you, the pattern would continue. And then seeing you as Padraic, I thought our time was up.”

“So you decided on a pre-emptive dumping, along with a strongly-worded attempt to make me doubt my professional skills.”

Zach looks at Chris, who is simply raising his eyebrows. “You’re right. It was selfish. And it _was_ cruel. I hated myself for so long after that night, Chris, really. I could barely look at myself in the mirror.”

“And how do you think _I_ felt?”

Zach slides down a little in the bed and wraps his arms around his face. Chris can see that he’s trembling slightly. “Bad. Worse than me. But Corey told me he saw you and he wouldn’t tell me how you were doing, so I thought…I thought maybe you were okay. So I decided I should just stay away from you for a while, if you were okay with everything. And the way Corey looked at me, like he was so _disappointed_ in me, I figured you’d told him what I said.”

Chris is actually surprised that Corey kept his word and didn’t spill his guts. “I gave Corey his binding head-slap thing. So he wouldn’t tell you anything about me.”

Zach gives a short bark of laughter. “That is genuinely the only thing guaranteed to keep his mouth shut.”

Chris smiles a little, but then sees Zach looking at him. “I wasn’t doing well,” he says. “I wasn’t doing well at all. But I’m better now. Or I thought I was, before last night.”

They both start speaking over each other.

“Last night –”

“I shouldn’t have –”

Chris sighs. “Let me go first. Last night was not good. I need you to know how sorry I am about it. I was completely out of line. We’re so messed up right now. It’s not healthy.”

“I know I’m messed up, but that’s why I’m going to therapy, so –”

“Zach.” He says it gently, takes his hand. “Not just _you_. _We_ are messed up. That stuff I did last night, it was manipulative at best and God, I don’t want to admit it, but abusive at worst, and this just – it’s not working right now, it hasn’t worked for a while.”

“I don’t think it was abusive.” Zach frowns.

“It’s nice that you think I’m so perfect. But trust me. That stuff was totally over the line. I fucked up majorly.”

“As majorly as I did?” Zach actually sounds hopeful.

Chris squeezes his hand. “I don’t think comparing the level of fuck-ups is going to help. What matters now is whether we can wipe that stuff off the board, start again.”

“It’s already forgotten,” Zach says, and Chris knows it’s the truth.

“But it shouldn’t _be_ forgotten. That’s the problem. I knew you didn’t want to and I _made_ you.”

Zach draws his eyebrows down, thinking. “I could have – I mean – I didn’t have to–”

“I made you think that if you didn’t…I crossed the line. It was wrong.”

“I wanted you. And I compromised my principles by agreeing to do it when I’d been drinking before.”

“But you stopped.”

“Yes. Because you stopped me. I could never keep going once you safe-word.”

“But apparently I can,” Chris says quietly. “Apparently I’m happy to trample all over your limits and your boundaries whenever I feel like it. I did it last night, and it’s happened before, with the knife. When I cut you.”

Zach is still for a moment, and then he lifts his head. “Yeah. That _was_ wrong.”

“I’m sorry. For that and for last night.”

“I forgive you.”

“Could you…at least take some time to think about it?”

“Alright,” Zach says, flashing his teeth in a grin. “I’ll pretend it’s a struggle for me to forgive you, if it makes you feel better.”

  
***

  
Chris makes them both some coffee, giving him time to organize his thoughts. When he returns with two enormous mugs, it’s almost like everything is the same as it once was. He’s used Zach’s favorite cup by habit, the biggest one Chris owns.

They sip, and Chris thinks. “I’m still a little shocked that you came around here last night expecting that I would play with you. While you were drunk? And after everything that’s happened?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Chris sees Zach shift uncomfortably. “I guess it seemed like the thing to say at the time.”

“Honesty Policy.” The words drop from Chris’s mouth unthinkingly, and he locks eyes with Zach, both of them surprised.

“Honesty Policy,” Zach repeats. “Okay. I was going to fall to my knees and beg you to give me another chance, or something like that, that was the original plan. But when I saw you I – my pride got in the way, maybe. Or I thought you might respond because you like it when…you like being bossed around.”

Chris gives him a withering look, and doesn’t say anything.

“It was dumb. Really dumb.”

“It was more than dumb.”

“I know. I’m a fucking idiot.”

“You are.” Chris sips at his coffee. “I don’t want to belabor the point, but why did you say all that stuff to me at the play?”

Zach’s eyes get a little shiny, and he shakes his head. “I talked about it with my therapist and he said…he said maybe I was trying to push you away because I didn’t know how to express my fear properly. That I was projecting it on to you.”

Chris can’t say anything, because it’s all jumbled up, so he takes a second to breathe, relax his fingers around the coffee cup. The he says, “So you’re telling me your fear translated into, ‘Hey, you’ll never be as good as I am at this acting gig, and by the way, your accent sucks.’”

Zach cringes. “I should never have said that. And it wasn’t true. It wasn’t true.”

It still hurts, so Chris changes the subject. “What’s the deal with your therapist?”

“He’s _good_.” Zach’s eyes are wide and admiring. “He doesn’t let me get away with shit. He makes me hold myself responsible and really understand why I do things.”

“Great.”

“You know, when I first started going, he said I probably wouldn’t be able to hold together a relationship.”

 _I hate this guy already_ , Chris thinks immediately. “Is this dude a Jungian?”

“Naturally.”

“Fuck, Zach. You know, mental health has come a long way since Jung. And you told me you were reading that other guy, the one with the Eastern philosophies or whatever.”

Zach tilts an eyebrow. “Welwood. His name is Welwood. You’re opposed to Jung now?”

“Jung is a –” Chris stops, reminds himself that Carl Gustav Jung has not done anything to him, personally. “I just think that you might be…I don’t know if that stuff is good for you.”

“‘That stuff’?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Jung is not heroin. Or even cheeseburgers. I read other people too, and I take it on board if it works, but Jung – his approach just makes sense to me.”

“Sure, but making me terrified of you makes sense to you.” Chris bites his lip. “That – I didn’t mean –”

Zach looks like he’s not quite sure what to think, but then he grins. “Well, sure. But Jung has a lot to say about that kind of thing, when you actually apply his theories and–”

“Alright, alright, alright. Yay, Jung. Keep going.”

“If it makes you feel better, most of the time we just talk about things. No Jung involved. But my therapist –”

“Can we give him a name, please? I’m sure he has one.”

“Paul.”

“Thank you.”

“So Paul –”

“Is he gay?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Okay.”

“So –”

“Bi?”

“Um. I really haven’t asked. That’s not the kind of relationship we have.”

“Sorry. Keep going.”

“Hey, are you…?” Zach smiles a little, shakes his head. “Never mind. Okay. So, Paul basically told me that I was fucked in the head.”

“Just like that?”

“Well, it was more professional. He said that I was holding things together with you by a thread and that I shouldn’t be surprised if it broke.”

“Cheery guy.”

“Well, he was right, wasn’t he?”

“Self-fulfilling prophecy.”

Zach says softly, “Do you really think so?”

Chris shifts in the bed, feeling annoyed.

“I mean, you just said yourself, before – we broke up for more reasons than that one night.”

“I just don’t think therapists should say that kind of shit. It’s not their place. ’Specially not some Jungian.” He mutters the last sentence, but Zach hears him, and sighs.

“You really do have some grudge against Jung, don’t you?”

“Hell yes, I do. That stupid quote you read, the way you fixated on it –”

“Well, I’m still working on that –”

“Total bullshit. Just because –”

“Chris, do you want to hear about this or not? Okay. _So_. Paul and I have talked about that quote and I haven’t figured it out completely yet, but I’m more comfortable about some stuff.”

“Comfortable?” Chris raises his eyebrows. “And how exactly did that happen?”

“Christopher. Paul is a dominant. He likes to order other people around and, occasionally, hurt them. I went to him because he understands my point of view.”

Chris opens his mouth to say that he totally doesn’t care and that’s totally not what he was asking, but – it totally was. “Oh.” _Okay. I hate him a little less._ “Is he good looking?”

“He’s not my type.”

“Well, alright then.” _We love Paul._

“A few sessions in, I told Paul what you said, about how relationships aren’t supposed to make you feel complete. And damn him, he agreed with you.”

“I’ll try to avoid saying ‘I told you so’. But I did.”

“So we’re still working out what I can do to be really complete in myself. And that quote was one of the first things we talked about.”

“But you haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Not yet. But – it’s close.” Zach stares at the wall in concentration, then shakes it off. “After we broke up, I told him I had to get better as soon as possible, so I could go back and make you love me again.”

“That’s…”

“Dumb. I know. Paul said the same.”

“Sometimes, Zach…” Chris laughs, and Zach looks embarrassed.

“I know I’m not –”

“I’m not laughing _at_ you. Well. I am. But only because you’re kind of adorable. Don’t look annoyed, you _are_.”

“Not so adorable sometimes.” That shuts Chris up. “After I said that to Paul,” Zach continues, “he said that he wouldn’t work with me unless I was doing it for myself. He said it wasn’t a good reason, to just do it for you. And we had a big argument.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“I know. I flounced out and everything. I felt like such a tool, afterwards. I went back and apologized and threw myself on his mercy. He said I needed some intensive work, and I agreed. And things are getting better. Slowly.”

“Good,” Chris says. He feels a little out of his depth. “What do you talk about? Your childhood?”

“Sometimes. Past relationships. How I see things.”

Chris wants to ask something, so badly, but it’s so personal, and he doesn’t want to upset Zach, not again.

“You’d better spit it out,” Zach advises. “You look like you’re going to explode.”

“Were you abused? As a kid?”

Zach is taken aback. “No. Why would you – oh. No. I’m not like this because of any childhood trauma.”

“But your dad…”

“I was already like this before he died.”

“You remember that far back?”

“I remember being like this from a very early age. I remember…it wasn’t always about sex, either.” He looks troubled. “But I didn’t want to be a monster.”

 _You’re not_ , Chris wants to say, but they’re just words. So he puts down his coffee cup and takes Zach’s, places it on the night stand as well. And he pulls Zach into a kiss, soft and innocent, and keeps kissing him until Zach’s mouth relaxes under his own and he kisses back. After a few seconds of that, Chris pulls back and puts his forehead up against Zach’s, their noses squishing together, and smiles. “You are not a monster. And I love you.”

“I can’t be with you.”

“Wow. Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.” Zach is getting teary, so Chris stops the sarcasm. “Okay. That’s okay. If you don’t want to –”

“Of _course_ I want to. But you were right, we broke up for so many reasons and I need to work through so much stuff and…and I can’t possibly expect you to wait around until I’m _functioning_ enough to be able to give you what you deserve in a relationship –”

“Whoa. Hold up, there. That’s a lot of information coming at me.”

“Everything is so messed up. _I_ messed it up.”

“You had help.” Zach scrubs at his face, and Chris feels his heart cracking. “Come here.” He pulls Zach insistently into a hug, although he has to admit he’s relieved when Zach doesn’t actually cry. Zach presses hard into Chris’s chest, his heart beating fast. Chris can feel it under his hand on Zach’s back. He strokes Zach’s hair like he’s petting a cat and wonders how Zoë or Katie might handle the situation. “Look,” he says, hit with inspiration. “I made a promise to someone that I wouldn’t date for three months anyway. I can restart that clock, because I screwed up last night. For three months at least, I can guarantee you, I’m off the market.”

“Three months?” Zach sounds stuffy.

“Three months.”

“That won’t be enough time. I need _years_ of therapy.”

“Well, it’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”

“I guess.”

“Stop sulking.”

“’M’not.”

“See how far you get in three months, and then – maybe we can talk.” In the meantime, Chris thinks, he’s going to go get some therapy of his own.

_Maybe even Jungian therapy._

_Yeah. Let’s not get carried away._  
  
Zach is talking, his voice quiet and tired. “Everything got so out of control, even when I thought I was _in_ control. I felt like everything was flying around in a whirlwind and we were at the center of it, just trying to hold on to each other. And then I let go.”

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre the falcon cannot hear the falconer; things fall apart; the center cannot hold; mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.”

After a minute, Zach says, “You’re not even in subspace.”

“Benefit of being an English major. I can quote poetry whenever I like.”

“And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”

“And…so can you, apparently. You know it?” Chris tries not to sound shocked. There’s no reason Zach _wouldn’t_ know it. But well enough to quote?

“Yeats. ‘The Second Coming.’ I read a lot of him after we broke up. He made me feel better. I don’t know why. Him and Plath. Transformation and stripping away layers of the self. Do you think our center can hold?”

Chris thinks about it. “Perhaps we can find a new center. Eventually. We can try to have a second coming of our own.” He pauses. “Maybe not one where the Antichrist is born, but…you know.”

“I know. But, hey – that’s only _one_ interpretation of the poem.” Zach sounds amused, and Chris feels his own heart lifting.

Sudden certainty strikes him. “I think I know why you like Yeats. His _Spiritus Mundi_ , the Spirit of the World, is like Jung’s collective unconscious. Similar sorts of ideas.”

Zach thinks it over, and Chris continues stroking his hair. When he speaks, he sounds almost drowsy. “The idea of a collective unconscious gives me hope. Hope that I’m not so isolated from the rest of humanity. That my mind is not so strange and unbelievable. That my dreams are not so horrifying. That they’re shared, by some people. That the _burden_ is shared.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I think we’d better fuck,” Chris says, matter-of-fact.

“I beg your pardon?” All the sleepiness is gone from Zach’s voice.

“I’m not going to be getting any for three months, maybe longer, and – God. This is embarrassing. And I want to _show_ you that I love you and that I can forgive and forget.”

Zach sits up, bites his lip. He’s tempted, Chris can see, but he’s not sure if it’s a good idea.

“It’s probably not a good idea,” Chris admits. “But since when is anything we do a good idea? I want you. You want me. We can’t be together right now, but at least we can say an epic goodbye. I need something to remember you by.”

“I don’t know if I’m up for anything…intense.”

“Jesus, Zach, you think I am?” He grins. “I just want something _fun_. Remember when it used to be fun?”

“Maybe. In the vast recesses of my memory.”

“I just want _you_ , inside me. I want to hear you come. I mean, I want to _see_ you come, but…”

“You could watch. This time.” Zach sounds – _shy_ , Chris realizes, and it makes his cock twitch.

“I’d like that.” His mouth is dry. He wants this, suddenly, more than anything. Something to keep him warm for months. “What would you like to do? How would you like to remember me?”

“I…” Zach looks helpless, so Chris kneels up in the bed, straddles him. Zach swallows. “That works. For a start.” He slides his hands up Chris’s thighs, cups his ass and pulls him closer.

“You know how I like to remember you?” Chris asks, nuzzling into his neck. “Before. When I see your mind ticking over, working out something. Making it safe and making it magical. And during. When I can see your concentration, even while you’re hitting me or biting me or caning me – you’re so hot for me but you do everything you can to make it good for _me_. And afterwards. When you’re trying to make me eat chocolate and you can’t keep to your own side of the bed and you do this gentle snore thing when you’re falling asleep –”

“I don’t snore!” Zach is outraged, but laughing.

“Oh, but you _do_. A cute little snuffle thing just when you’re dropping off.”

Zach growls, and tumbles them until he’s on top, and Chris is giggling and Zach is trying to look annoyed, but his twitching lips give him away. “You know what I think?”

“What do you think, Zach?”

“I think you need a good spanking.”

“I think you might be right.”

Chris thinks that finally the stars must be aligned for them, because it’s perfect. It’s fun, and it’s playful and he hasn't felt so happy for a very long time.  Zach takes his time warming Chris up, and the spanking is gentle, making his ass tingle into sensitivity before they’re wrapped up hard against each other face to face and Zach is fucking into him.

“Hold me down,” Chris begs, and Zach obliges, his hands sure and certain. “And remember you said I could watch.”

“You would never let me forget it,” Zach pants. When he’s close, he tells Chris. Chris ignores his own body for a moment while he watches the way Zach’s face goes perfectly still just before he comes, the way his teeth flash just before he bites.

Afterwards, they lie in a tangled heap, sweaty and sticky and hot, and wait for their breathing to slow down.

“I need to shower,” Zach yawns. “And I have to get back to Joe’s, pick up my stuff.” He lifts a head, looks at the clock. “I don’t have long before I need to be at the airport.”

Chris grunts. He’s still in post-coital bliss. He feels Zach’s hand creep into his own and squeeze his fingers.

“You want to shower with me?”

It’s the last time he’ll be able to have Zach wet and naked for a while. Maybe forever. So Chris shakes off the afterglow and follows him to the shower, where they wash each other for much longer than necessary and spend a lot of time kissing up against the corner. Eventually the water runs cold.

“Can I –” Zach holds a towel towards Chris, tentative.

“Yes.” _Yes, you can dry me off. You can take care of me._

Once they’re both dry, they look at each other in the mirror. Zach looks sad, but he smiles. “I better get moving.”

“Wait.” Chris opens the bathroom cabinet, scrabbles inside. It’s still there. He brings it out and holds it out to Zach.

“The sharpie?”

“The sharpie.”

“I don’t know if –”

“If you don’t, I’ll do it myself, because that’s one habit I haven’t been able to break. But I’d prefer you to do it. If you want to. I mean, I don’t want to push you – oh, God. Sorry. Did I just –”

Zach takes it from him. “Of course I want to. I’m just not sure why _you_ want to.”

Chris shrugs. “You have your tattoo. I need something to hold on to as well. A reminder.”

Zach’s hand in the small of his back makes Chris’s heartbeat accelerate, but the familiar feeling of the sharpie on his flesh leaves him content. Zach blows gently on it to make sure it’s set before kissing it.

They hug, hard and long, just before Zach leaves.

“Goodbye, Christopher.”

“Goodbye, my Icy Bear.” He says it into Zach's neck, his lips scratching against stubble. Zach trembles slightly. “Good luck in therapy.”

“Thank you. I’ll need it.”

“Keep in touch.” It’s a terrible last line, but Chris can’t think of anything else to say.

  
***

  
“So you broke up again?” Katie pauses, her forkful of salad hovering over the plate. She looks worried. They’re catching lunch together at a local place the day before Chris leaves for Vancouver. He won’t be able to see her for a while.

“Sort of. We’re not together, but we’re not _not_ together.”

Katie replaces the fork in the bowl and dabs her mouth with the napkin. “You don’t seem as cut up as I thought you’d be.” Her overly-casual tone is beginning to get on Chris’s nerves.

“We’re working some stuff out apart.”

“Alright. If that’s what you think is best.”

“It is.”

“Okay, then.”

“ _Katie_ –”

“Look, this is me, getting my nose out of your business.” Katie pushes in the end of her nose and makes a face at him. He laughs.

“We’re giving it a few months. Zach has a lot of issues. And so do I.”

“Tell me about it.” She grins, and picks up her fork again. “But anytime you want to talk, give me a call.”

“I will. Can we eat in peace, now?”

Katie innocently sucks up a long leaf of arugula.

“Seriously, though,” she says over dessert, “I’m proud of you. Being all emotionally healthy and stuff.”

“Is that a technical term?”

“It is. Look it up in the _New Dictionary of Psychology_ , under E. Between Dissociation and Freud.” She smiles at Chris’s snort.

Chris sips his iced coffee and wonders how to broach the topic. If he even should. “So, say one of your patients –”

“Clients.”

“Whatever. One of your sanity-seekers came in and said he – said _she_ liked being hurt during sex. What would you say?”

Katie eyes her raspberry cheesecake. “This could do with more whipped cream on the side. I guess I’d make sure it was consensual, and then ask if he – _she_ – felt like it was an issue.”

“And if she didn’t?”

She shrugs. “Those kinds of relationships can be tricky, from what I hear, but not impossible. I’m not a specialist in the area, but I see people sometimes who are into that. Things can get mixed up. But everyone has issues. Every _relationship_ has issues. As long as something makes you – I mean, her – happy, and _really_ happy, _healthy_ happy, and it’s a consensual relationship with another adult, why not?” She pops another mouthful of cheesecake and sucks the fork. “’S’good. Wanna try?”

Chris shakes his head. “I’ve got my cookie thing.”

“Omigod, those are so good, right? I think they use crack as the main ingredient. They’re addictive.”

“They’re pretty good. So you don’t think it’s a mental illness? Or – crazy?”

“No, I seriously think it’s crack.”

“Not _that_.”

“Oh, right. The kink stuff? Nah.” She steals a fallen crumb from Chris’s plate.

He yanks the plate out of her reach. “Hey! You picked cheesecake, you stick with cheesecake!”

She grins wickedly, and closes her eyes to savor. “Why are you asking?”

“Research. Um. For a role.”

She nods. “So, just a suggestion, brother of mine – it’s cool that we can talk, but you might not wanna question just _anyone_ about that whole kink thing. Anyone else _close_ to us, if you know what I mean.” She rolls her eyes at his confusion. “ _Mom_ , you moron. Don’t go asking her professional opinion on sexy spankings or anything.”

Chris chokes on his coffee.

Katie nods sagely. “Yeah, it might get a bit Oedipal. There are just some things a mother doesn’t need to know.”

“Jesus, Katie! I do have _some_ impulse control.”

“Do you?” she asks archly. “I’ve never seen you exercise it.”

Chris looks at her thoughtfully. “Thanks for the criticism.”

  
***

  
Chris has been in Vancouver for a few weeks, filming. He’s lonely, but he enjoys hanging out with his co-stars when they’re all free. On this particular morning, he’s just come back from a run and is about to shower when his cell rings. He checks the name, and feels his heart seize. _Zach_.

It’s not that they agreed not to call each other. In fact, they agreed that they _should_ call, if they wanted to talk about anything, just not too often. But as it turned out, they’ve stuck to emails and the occasional text.

“Hey.” Chris is relieved to hear that his voice makes it past the heart in his mouth.

“Hey. It’s me.”

“Yeah. I know.” He pauses. “How are you?”

Zach clears his throat. “Things are good. Busy. You?”

“Same. I’m filming up in Vancouver, and I have to start promo work for the train movie, so…”

“Sure. Yeah. That’ll be fun, right? Denzel, man. I envy you.”

“Yeah, Denzel. You _should_ envy me.”

“He’s so cool.”

“Cooler than Kirk.”

Zach laughs. “No one’s cooler than Kirk. So, hey – I was wondering.” He’s nervous. “You know I’m doing this play –”

“Hell, yes. Great reviews! Congratulations, Zach. I’m really proud of you.” Chris has been hoarding reviews, feeling his heart swell every time he rereads how amazing Zach’s performance has been.

There’s a scuffling noise, like Zach has dropped the phone.

“Hey, can you hear me? Are you there?”

“Yeah.”

“What was –”

“Look, I was calling to tell you I have tickets if you want,” Zach says in a rush. “For you. And a guest. If you’re, I don’t know, seeing someone or your publicist wants you to bring a date, or –”

“I’m not doing that anymore.”

“Oh.”

“You got me tickets?”

Zach laughs, but it’s not his usual laugh. “Of course I got you tickets. But I understand if you’re busy or something.” He names the date, and Chris checks his calendar.

“I think I could do that; I have some time off around then. And I’ll find someone to come.”

“Yeah. Okay. Good, thanks. I…you know. I really want you to see it.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Maybe we could catch up after. I mean, if you want. There’s a break in the middle, but I thought maybe we could meet after the whole thing so we’re not watching the time. If you want. I don’t want to make you feel…”

Chris takes a breath. “Yeah. Of course we should do that. I mean, no point coming out there and not catching up. We could do dinner or something.”

“Yeah. Dinner.”

Chris casts around wildly for something to say apart from _goodbye_. “How’s therapy?” There’s no response. “Sorry. I shouldn’t –”

“It’s going well.”

“I didn’t –”

“I go to three sessions a week.”

“Three?” Chris is a little shocked. “Dude. Isn’t that a little excessive?”

Zach laughs again, but it’s easy and natural. “Maybe. But _I’m_ a little excessive. It’s going well. I actually made some breakthroughs. I’m doing a lot better.”

“When do you even get _time_ to go to three sessions?”

“I _make_ time. It’s important.”

Chris can’t argue with that. “I started seeing someone too. But just every two weeks or so. Your doctor recommended her.”

“Oh.” Chris tries to place the tone – surprise? Caution? “Well, good. Is it helping?”

Chris’s therapist is an older woman, plump and friendly and motherly, which Chris thought at first might make things difficult. After all, Katie was right: there _are_ some things that mothers don’t need to know. But Suzanne is only motherly when she needs to be, and Chris, over the time he’s been seeing her, has detailed almost everything he and Zach have been through. She gives him exercises to do and cognitive behavioral techniques to use and explains Jungian concepts whenever he asks about them. She has no problems at all with sadomasochism, unless it’s causing issues for the participants.

Chris loves her.

“Yes, it’s helping,” Chris says fervently. “Just knowing that there are people in the world who don’t think I’m completely fucked in the head for what I like – it’s a big help. It’s nice to feel accepted. I’m a lot calmer about things these days.”

There’s that scuffling noise again. And then Zach says, “I owe you an apology. I should have made sure you had people to talk to about that – people other than me.”

Chris swallows. “Well, yeah. You should have.”

“I was being selfish.”

“I should have pushed more.”

“I’m sorry. I should have –”

“It’s okay. I forgive you. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You get it now.”

“Yeah. I get it now.”

Chris doesn’t know what else to say, but apparently neither does Zach, and they spend a minute in silence.

“I guess I should go,” Zach says eventually. “I’ll send the tickets out to you. Thank you for taking my call.”

“Don’t be silly.” Chris chuckles. “You can call any time, you know that.”

  
***

  
By the time he arrives in New York, Chris has taken the time to grow his beard out a little during his time off, so he won’t be immediately recognizable. All the recent pictures of him have been from the set, where he’s clean shaven, so he figures it’ll help his disguise. Katie, wearing a chic black dress and coat, rolls her eyes at his baseball cap and hoodie, pulled forward over his face.

“I almost bought colored contacts as well,” he confides to her. “But I thought–”

“Ridiculous?”

“No.” He’s annoyed. She’s using that Big Sister tone of voice that immediately makes him nine years old again, in awe of his beautiful, popular, teenage sibling. “They weren't flexible like normal contacts. Hurt too much to put them in. I kept poking myself in the eye.”

“We’re not CIA agents.”

“I just don’t want to be photographed. Or noticed.”

“Well, mission accomplished. You look godawful. You sure you want Zach seeing you like this?”

It stings enough that he takes some time to trim down his beard a little.

Parts of _Angels in America_ , and parts of Zach’s performance, remind Chris of the things that went down between them. So it hurts, but it also feels like an apology, a personal apology meant just for him, which he’s more than willing to accept. These aren’t just hollow words. They _mean_ something.

He does have to stifle giggles at Zach getting fucked by a leather daddy, though. Katie elbows him painfully.

After the first part, they melt away into the streets, avoiding glances from other patrons and walking rapidly away from the theater. Katie only makes one acerbic comment about running in heels from phantom photographers. After the second part, Chris hustles Katie out of the theater as soon as the show is over. He doesn’t want an awkward meeting with Zach in the foyer. Then he makes her come the long way round to the diner that Zach named as a meeting point.

Zach is already waiting for them when they get there. He stands up and kisses Katie when they arrive at the table, then hugs her and looks over her head at Chris. His eyes are dark and serious for a moment, and then he breaks into a smile. “Good to see you both.”

“Long time,” Katie says into his chest, muffled. She pushes him away gently, and Zach lets go of her in surprise, as though he’s forgotten about her. “Are we going to sit down?”

Chris pulls down his hoodie and takes off his hat. They sit, and exchange pleasantries about the weather, traffic, the plane ride over, the hotel they’re staying at – “The Bowery? Really?” Zach asks.

“Can’t keep him away,” Katie shrugs. “It’s his favorite hotel.”

Zach gives Chris an appraising look and Chris feels himself flushing hot pink under his gaze. “It’s a nice hotel,” he says defensively.

“You ready to order?” is all that Zach says.

“Actually, guys, I’m going to leave you to it.” Katie stands, and starts putting on her gloves, scarf.

“What? But –”

“I could pretend to have a hot date, but I really just think you two need to talk. I’ll see you back at the hotel, Chris. Zach – incredible performance.” She smiles brightly and leaves.

“Traitor,” Chris mumbles, and turns back to see Zach staring at his menu with a half-smile.

“Your sister is smart.”

“She’s _wily_ , you mean. Cunning. But she’s right – that _was_ an incredible performance. I mean, you’re always good, but that was –”

“You’re all scruffy.” Zach waves his hand vaguely at his face.

“Well – it was supposed to be a disguise. It was this or Groucho glasses.”

“I like it. You always looked good like that. Outdoorsy, especially with all the plaid. Like a lumberjack or something.”

Chris, who is wearing a plaid shirt under his hoodie, starts to wish he’d worn something different.

Zach smiles at the menu again. “I think I’m going to have a panini. You?”

“Sounds good. That one with the salami.”

“I’ll go order.” Chris tries to give him some money, but Zach shakes his head. “I’ve got it.”

“I don’t want to _owe_ you –”

“Pine, it’s a fucking panini. You can pay for coffee after or something, if you like.” They look at each other, and Chris smiles.

“If I’d known you were paying, I would’ve ordered something much more expensive.”

They make idle small-talk until the food arrives. Zach talks about how amazing his cast-members are, and Chris tells him about Reese Witherspoon and Tom Hardy.

“I saw that _Details_ spread, by the way.”

“Oh, fuck me.” Chris laughs, covers his eyes in embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“I liked it. It was very…”

“Ken Doll? Like, Greaser Mechanic Ken?”

“Hot, I was going to say. You never wore leather pants for me.”

“You never asked.” Chris smirks, and notes with interest the sparkle in Zach’s eyes and faint blush over his nose.

“You seeing anyone in Vancouver?”

“Wow, you _are_ a great actor. That was _totally_ casual.”

Zach drops his head a little, but smiles. “You don’t have to tell me. I just wondered. In that _Details_ article, you said you might try to hook up with – how did you put it? Oh, right, you were hoping for some beautiful ladies up in Vancouver.”

“Jesus.” Chris is mortified. “Why do I always come off sounding like a total douche in interviews? Look, man, I – I said that stuff around the time we were…It was right after _Inishmore_.”

Zach drops his panini and wipes his hands, his face somber. “Chris, I owe you so many apologies, but the biggest one was all that bullshit I laid on you that night. It was totally out of line. You were right, I was just being cruel to you, because of my own insecurities. I hope that maybe one day you can forgive me for that, but I certainly understand if you can’t.” He leans forward, his elbows on the table. “And I will never forgive myself for not telling you how brilliant you were. You were great, really great, and it had nothing to do with me. You were fantastic, and I should have told you that. Instead of projecting my own problems on to you.”

Chris blinks. “Where’s all this coming from?”

“ _Angels_. And therapy. And getting my head out of my fucking ass.”

“So I’m not just a movie star, huh?” He smiles as he says it, leans back in his chair, but his heart is beating fast.

Zach frowns. “You said that a lot when we were together. I never really understood what you meant.”

“Well, _you_ said it. To Corey, _and_ to me. That I was just a movie star and you were a real actor.”

Zach looks appalled. “I never said anything like that.”

Chris feels the stirrings of anger, and tries to quell them. “Alright. Forget it.”

“No, seriously – Chris, I would _never_ say something like that about you. When was this? Oh – wait. I remember.” He closes his eyes briefly. “What I said to Corey was, you were like a classic movie star, like – I don’t know, Paul Newman or Robert Redford or something. Gorgeous, but talented too, and your people wanted to protect your image.”

“And then you said _you_ weren’t that kind of actor.” The words are still bitter in his mouth.

“I just meant that we’re different _types_ of actors. I’m never going to be an action hero or a traditional romantic lead, but you, you’ve done nerdy and suave and funny and scary and hero and – everything. You can do everything. Even psycho-crazy.” He gives a small smile. “But anyway, that’s one reason I like theater. I’m not so typecast. In movies, I’m probably always gonna be the villain or gay or alien or just _weird_. I’m never going to be like you. I couldn’t even if I tried.” He takes a sip of his drink and looks straight at Chris. “I admire you for that. It seems effortless for you.”

“You admire me?” Chris isn’t sure he heard right.

Zach fiddles with his plate, looking a little embarrassed. “Well, sure. Sometimes I think you could do anything you wanted, anything at all. You’re fearless. I wish I were too, but you were right – I’m a coward.”

“So you – you actually do think I have some talent?”

Zach stares at him, concerned. “If I’ve ever given you reason to feel like I don’t think you’re capable or talented or _amazing_ , I’m sorrier than I can say. I’ve always found your work exciting and I really like the way you’re so committed and dedicated to it. And I loved working with you on _Trek_ , you know that. You’re an excellent actor.”

Chris clears his throat, blinks a few times. “Thanks.” He can’t speak for a moment, and Zach, thankfully, looks out the window rather than at Chris. “For what it’s worth, Zach, I don’t think you’re a coward. I know you struggle with a lot of things, but you could just – you could just forget about them, and self-combust or something, but you don’t. I think that’s brave.”

Zach shakes his head. “I don’t know about that.”

“No, really –”

“Thanks. But – I don’t know. Can we talk about something else, maybe? I feel like I’m monopolizing the conversation with my _issues_.” He makes air quotes, and Chris starts laughing. Zach smiles nervously. “You’re really going to make me ask again? If you’re seeing someone in Vancouver?”

“I haven’t been seeing anyone. I told you I wouldn’t.”

“But your three months is up by now. Well over, in fact.”

“You seeing anyone?”

“No.” An ocean of words in just one syllable.

They look at each other.

“I miss the coffee from that place near your apartment,” Chris says. “It was good.”

“You wanna go get some?”

“Sure. Taxi?”

“We can get the subway. It doesn’t matter so much now if people see us together.” Zach turns away before Chris can fully read his expression.

“Doesn’t it?” Chris asks. Zach half-turns, and Chris can see hope in his face.

“Let’s get a taxi,” Zach says.

  
***

  
The coffee place is closed, but Zach says he has some of their beans back at his place. “Won’t be the same, but it’s something. It’s that one girl, though, you know?”

“I know, right? She’s like a magical coffee genius. No idea what she does but her coffee is like…” He waves his hand around for a simile.

“Scalding liquid sex,” Zach sighs. And Chris laughs. “Remember that one time you couldn’t wait for it to cool down?”

“Yeah. I got burned.” His smile falters, and Zach looks away. “Let’s go back to your place. I’ll come up.”

“Katie?”

“She’s fine.”

“It surprised me that you’re staying at the Bowery again,” Zach says as they start walking slowly. “I thought it might have some bad memories for you.”

Chris kicks at a crack in the pavement. “Some bad. Some good memories, too.”

Zach lets it go.

Chris thought that he might feel uncomfortable in Zach’s apartment, but he doesn’t. It’s familiar. Nothing has changed. The photograph collections on each flat surface still include Chris. He raises his eyebrows at that. After they broke up, Chris put away all reminders of Zach.

In the kitchen, he looks at the floor and remembers the time he came all over it. Zach catches his flushed smirk and shakes his head, amused.

“Woof,” Chris says, and Zach starts, spills coffee beans everywhere. Chris laughs and helps him clean up.

“That was an interesting afternoon,” Zach says after the coffee is ready. “Fun.”

They sit at the small kitchen table. “It _was_ fun.”

“We don’t have to talk about –”

“I don’t know, Zach. Maybe we do.”

Zach lets out a long breath. “You think we’re ready to talk again?”

“No idea. We can try. Stop if we need to. I mean, we need to get this sorted out before filming starts again. If not for us, for the rest of them.”

Zach nods. “You got that right. I need someone to sit next to at lunch besides JJ. And he might not even _be_ there.”

“You think they’ll freeze you out?”

“God knows they _should_.” He smiles, abashed. “Treating their Captain like that? Makes me want to not sit with _myself_.”

“None of them really know what went down, and even if they did, they’d be split on the blame. It was no way for me to treat their First Officer, either. Besides, I’ll sit with you,” Chris offers easily. “And I won’t let Karl hit you.” Zach’s eyes go wide. “I’m kidding, man. He doesn’t want to hit you. Well, as far as I know.”

“I don’t think I could take a beat-down from Urban. I’d probably end up crying.”

“Probably. Damn, Zach. This coffee is _good_.”

“I miss you.”

“I know. I miss you too.”

“I still love you.”

“Yeah. Same.”

Zach pushes away his cup, still half-full. “I’m not ready yet, though. For a relationship. I’m still not complete yet, on my own. I feel so incredibly _guilty_ about everything that happened between us, but Paul says that’s still self-serving, so I’m trying to move past it. And there’s just stuff I’ll have to live with, and try to do better in the future. But I’m not ready.”

The light in the room is suddenly too bright, and Chris blinks a little. “You’re not ready. Well, okay. I can wait.”

“I’m not telling you this with the expectation that you’ll wait until I’m –”

“I know that. And I’m not saying that, not exactly.”

Zach stands up, paces across the kitchen.

“You’re brooding.” Chris sips his coffee, but his heart beats too fast.

“Yeah.” Zach grabs onto the sink and stares into it, like his life is running down the drain. “That’s me. Brooding.”

“I meant what I said.”

“I don’t want you to mean it. Please. Tell me you’ll go out and fuck and – and _play_. Christ. Go do stuff. Do stuff without me.”

“You think I want to play –”

Zach whirls around. “ _Yes_. And if you don’t, you should. I indoctrinated you in the way I like to do it. But that’s not fair. I want you to go out and – see. Go see what’s out there.”

Chris stares at him. “You really are a fucking moron. You think I’m going to –”

“ _Yes_. Yes, I do. And I want you to. Go find out stuff.”

“Oh, okay. You want me to go get attacked –”

“God, _no_!” Zach is getting louder, and Chris puts his cup back down carefully on the table. “Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell like that.”

“It’s me. I’m being a dick.”

They look at each other.

“So am I,” Zach says. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be trying to tell you what to do. Maybe we’re not ready to talk.”

“I think we are. If I can just get over myself for a minute.” Chris smiles, but it’s painful. “Zach, I don’t want to be with anyone else. I don’t want anyone else doing that stuff to me, not right now. With you, it’s magic. It really is. Some kind of weird effect that I can’t understand, but it’s not going to happen with anyone else, not like that, and I know that because I already went out and experimented after we broke up. I wasn’t in the best frame of mind, maybe, but – even so. It showed me that we had something irreplaceable. I’m not saying,” he continues quickly, when Zach opens his mouth, “that I won’t ever love someone else or I won’t ever have fun playing with someone else, but it would be different. It wouldn’t be what we had. It might be just as good –”

“Or better.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “But it wouldn’t be the same, and what I want, right now –” He’s only just figuring it out himself. “What I want is what we had. I don’t know if I can have it back, but that’s what I want. And until I stop wanting that, there’s no point in seeing other people.”

“Until you stop wanting that.”

“Until I stop wanting that, or I have it back. So I can wait a little longer. Not forever. But a little longer.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Zach says. He looks amazed.

“No, you probably don’t.” Chris grins. “But you’re stuck with me, for now. Unless…do _you_ want to try someone new?” One look at his face and Chris has the answer. “Okay, then. We’ll wait it out a little longer and then see.”

They talk more, about their lives, friends, families. Zach tells a tale about Corey that has Chris weeping with laughter. Later, after Chris rinses his cup, he can’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around Zach from behind as he sits at the table.

Zach puts his hand over Chris’s, and they breathe together for a minute.

“Will it ever work?” Zach says.

“It will all find its way. Just give it time.”

“You sound so confident.”

“I’ve never been more confident of anything in my entire life. And I can see you’ve changed. You’re changing. Still.”

“Maybe I’ll change so much I won’t be the same person. You might not love the new me as much as the old me.” Zach is probably joking, but Chris wants to reassure him anyway.

“Not possible.” He kisses Zach’s temple and lets him go. “Hey, you wanna go make out?”

Zach presses his lips together to suppress a smile. “Um. I do. But I don’t think we should. Besides, I haven’t had sex for so long I’d probably cream in my jeans and that would just be embarrassing for all concerned.”

Chris pouts a little. “How come we shouldn’t?”

“Well, Paul said –”

“Oh, _Paul_.” Chris waves his hand as though Paul is the very last thing on his mind.

“Yes, _Paul_. Said that I shouldn’t mix things together while I’m doing this work. I got quite the lecture after our epic goodbye screwing. I _really_ don’t want to have to go through that again.”

Chris sighs, smiles. “I’m mostly kidding, anyway.”

“I know.”

“Your work is pretty thorough.”

“It has to be.”

“Then let the Great Work continue. Far be it from me to interrupt your journey of the self.” He makes wiggly fingers in the air.

“You’re teasing me,” Zach observes.

“Yes.”

“It’s cute.”

“ _I’m_ cute.”

“Cute like a puppy.” Zach grins at Chris’s blush. “I’d love to make out with you, but like I said –”

“I get it. I’ll refrain from jumping you.” Chris smiles, puts his hands in his pockets. “So – I guess I should get going. It’s late. You need sleep, and I need to get an early flight tomorrow.”

“I’m glad you came.”

“Me, too.”

Zach walks him to the door, and as Chris turns to say a final goodbye, grabs him and kisses him hard.

“Forgot Paul, did we?” Chris pants as they break apart.

“Forgot my own goddamn name. Sorry.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“I shouldn’t have…Oh, fuck it.” He kisses Chris again, not quite so ferociously, but by the time he lets go, Chris feels a little wobbly on his legs. “I love you.”

“I love you too. And I’ll wait. I’ll wait a while longer for you.”

Zach looks at his feet. “I want to tell you not to, but – thanks. And I’ll do my best. Not just for you but…well. You’re a big part of it.”

“I know.”

They look at each other, smirking and feeling a little sheepish and not quite knowing how to say goodbye.

Chris remembers something. “Oh, right. Do you want this back? I took it with me in case you did.” He fishes in his pocket and holds up a key. The key Zach gave him to the apartment.

Zach rubs his hand across the back of his neck, his eyes closed. “No. I’d like you to have it. Still. If you want it.”

“Alright. I’ll keep it. At least you’ll know who to come looking for if you get burgled.”

“Yeah.” Zach smiles.

“I’ll see you. Soon,” Chris promises.

“Soon.”

Chris walks backwards from the doorway so he can watch Zach as long as possible. At the stairwell, a thought strikes him. “Hey – did you work out that quote yet?”

“Not yet. But I will.”

On his way down the street to find a taxi, Chris turns back instinctively, and sees Zach, outlined in the window, watching him. Zach raises a hand, and Chris waves back.

The night is freezing, but the sky is clear. Chris stands on a corner for a moment, looking up at Ursa Major, and following the line to the North Star. It’s enough, for now, to know that they will be there for millennia, connected. It gives him a sense of hope.

It gives him something to hold on to.


End file.
